Afterthoughts
by shilhouette68
Summary: A retelling of Chapter 362. Deidara's POV.


**Title:** Afterthoughts  
**Pairing:** Kinda SasoDei-ish at the end.  
**Summary:** A retelling of Chapter 362; Deidara's POV.

* * *

It hurt. It hurt so much.

Being underestimated by those eyes made him feel insignificant. Like art without any value. Trash.

'No way.' Deidara thought. 'No way I'd lose to someone like you.'

That feeling… the feeling that says _you're about to lose again_ swirled around his head, and it hurt. Just thinking about being defeated and outdone by the same eyes – he both detested and admired – for the second time, made him want to crumble into dust. His body was tired, gashed, and becoming weak but his ego was hurting the most. He had worked hard and prepared himself, so that one day he would be able to stand up against the Sharingan. He aimed for that goal for God knows how long, and _this_? _This_ was the fucking outcome?!

Years of training his eye…  
Years of making his art more desirable, even presentable…  
Years of improving his techniques…  
Years of expecting a positive reaction from _that_ man…

All of that… crushed by the younger Uchiha; he couldn't even allure the boy's eyes.  
What more to allure Itachi's?

His hand had formed into a fist, knuckles white, shaking from all the anger; from all the disappointment and hate he held right at that moment. It occurred to him that history was repeating itself. It repeated like a broken record, playing the same tune all over again; much like how this scene was like a carbon copy of the day Akatsuki came to fetch him.

Then he looked up; he looked up into those eyes. The eyes that held an abyss of nothing but coldness; and that boy, looking like not even _shit_ would faze him.

Deidara snapped.

"Those eyes!! That misused pair of monstrosity!! It drives me insane!!" Deidara yelled, his voice nearly screeching. "Eyes that reject… that disdain my art! Eyes that never show wonder; not even appreciation!!" he continued.

"Eyes that ignore my creations!! I **REFUSE** to be looked at by them any longer!!"

Silence.

All he could hear was his labored breathing. Out of breath, yes, but he gave him a piece of his mind; a piece of his mind that was kept silent for so long. An opinion he wanted out; an opinion he longed to spit at Itachi's face, and –

"I couldn't care less about all that. Now tell me where Itachi is."

Those eyes never gave away a trace of emotion.

It stung. It hurt. It was so painful. It was _too_ much. He couldn't take it anymore.

It made his whole being sore, knowing that those eyes would do nothing but look at him with disregard.  
It would never appreciate…  
Never admire…  
Never acknowledge…  
It would never look at him with respect.

-----

Sharingan; he considered it as his biggest audience. He marvelled at that pair; he admired its artistic composition, how it worked, how everyone, who'd looked into them, had fallen prey to defeat.

It was probably his biggest critic. Probably.

-----

Sasuke's eyes had turned back to their onyx state but those eyes were still there; maybe laughing at him or maybe pitying him for not possessing such eyes.

He knew he'd crossed the line to insanity when he resulted into this final attack.

He ripped his shirt off, exposing some kind of mark. There were thick threads that kept an opening closed, forming a line.

_'Danna…'_

His left hand bit into the thread, cutting it while his right hand dug in his pouch for the last giant ball of clay. He pulled on the bloodied string, squirting some on the ground. The line parted, revealing another mouth.

'… _maybe you were right.'_

As Deidara fed clay to it, he noticed that there was a distorted look on the brat's face. There was a look of bewilderment; a small sign of fear. He loved it.

"Behold, my masterpiece; **SELF DESTRUCTION!**"

'This guy's gone mad…' Sasuke thought.

"This will turn me into a work of art, a creation unlike any other. A piece worthy of everyone's praise!!"

_'That some art…'_

Sasuke tried to stand, but failed miserably. His muscles ached all over, left ankle might've been twisted, and his wounds felt like salt was rubbed against it.

"It's the end! I'm taking you with me, brat!"

'… _stays for a long while.'_

"**NOW!** Show me your fear! Cry like a lost child!!"

The look on Sasuke's face right now was the only thing Deidara wanted to see before he went out. The look Itachi would've shown if he came face to face with death.

"Because MY art…"

His only regret was that he wasn't going down with Itachi.

"… is a blast!!"

'_I'm coming, Danna.'_


End file.
